


Prologue

by tacendawrites



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:23:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacendawrites/pseuds/tacendawrites
Summary: Ivan searches for something to say, to help the man in front of him remember their life before this. He can only sort out a prologue.





	Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm excited to be introducing a work that I wrote for a friend a while back. I hope you don't mind that I added a few pairings that are favorites of mine to this story (Prussia/Ukraine, Belarus/Romania.)   
> You may be seeing a Prussia/Ukraine short up soon, so be sure to check that out when it comes along. For now - enjoy this little drabble I have put together!

The snow patters silently against their windowsill. Ivan's eyes watch as if it is something of interest, but draws away from it to watch the man sitting in front of the fire. That, somehow, seems to have some value to the man seated on the floor. Only because he doesn't seem to want to move from the same spot. Though the fire couldn't have been the reason, Ivan speculates. The fire hadn't been roaring but only half the day, and they had been home from the hospital for two. 

Ivan knows why Matthew won't move. Won't look at him, nor touch him. He doesn't know to. Since the vehicle incident that had banged him up, the doctor had gave Ivan hope that the concussion-induced amnesia would fade with the concussion. 

Ivan looks back to the dark sky through the pane. He shouldn't want to, but he wants to scream at his lover. Tell him he hasn't got patience for this, tell him he wants the one he loves. Not this empty void that seems like it can only give a fixed response to any contact. He wants to shake the scrawny form. Anything to strike something up behind the opposite's orbs. 

But more so, he wants to hold Matthew. Wants to remind him how they used to lay against each other on this small sofa in the most uncomfortable way, though they would become accustomed to the position eventually and watch the clouds break in rain, snow, shine. Whatever the outside forces brought. Ivan would frown if it rained, snort if it snowed, and squint if the sun shone. It never seemed to be just right. Matthew would be quick to remind him that the elements could be worse, the ground could open in a sinkhole and swallow them (Ivan could recall Matthew using this example many times.) It had though. The ground had eat Matthew, his Matvey, alive and spit up a bag of bones. 

The silence is eating at his very skin and he sits upright. "Come sit with me, the floor near the fire must be quite toasty. You're wearing that sweatshirt again. Besides being filthy, it's hot as well. Retreat inward, my love." And he all but hoists the body onto the sofa beside him. 

Matthew seems bored, or uncaring, because he just turns to stare at the licking flames as he sits with his significant other. The broadcast signals for the radio are out due to the storm brewing overhead, and their TV signals are surely down. It's not like Ivan could get Matthew to the bedroom where the television was set up anyhow. 

Ivan knows he shouldn't be so tense with Matthew. It's not like the boy has been reset. A minor setback, yes, but treatable and will heal within days. "In my hometown, my big sister use to sit me and my baby sister down by the fire and tell us fairytales or anything our young hearts yearned for when there was nothing to do on a dreary day like this." 

Ivan watched Matthew's eyes twitch like they wanted to make contact with Ivan's form, but they were as stubborn as the owner. Though it came to show Ivan that Matthew wasn't completely barren in his current care for the other. 

"I'm no expert in story-telling, I leave that to Katyusha. She could fabricate tall-tales, lies, anything. And it was very believable too! Katyusha once had my sister and I convinced that a demon would rise from the very foundation of the soil in the forest if we ventured too far from home. She claimed it would wisk us away and we'd belong in a pool of lost souls. Drifting aimlessly, with no more point to our lives." He shook his head. He missed his sisters and sometimes wished he could show them what life he had with Matthew. He hadn't heard from them in nearly four years. Last he had track of, Katyusha had broke their parents' heart by running off with an albino with a wild-streak - they now traveled like nomads and didn't settle in one place for very long. 'They had each other, and that was enough' was what Katyusha had wrote in her letter. Ivan was happy, she had always wanted to escape their small town. Natalya had married a Romanian, moved to his home-country, and they ran a respectable business. Some rumors had floated around the pair, but both had an odd turn to them. It wasn't a surprise that anyone could view them in a dark light. 

He didn't need to tell those stories, and he didn't want to. A simple story was what Matthew needed. "Would you like to hear a story, Matvey?"

No response. Two blinks, perhaps. He wasn't saying no. Ivan smiled. It wasn't ominous, and instead bared his whites that shined in the dim lighting. 

"In some places, love is difficult to find. A boy noticed this, and watched this strained feeling through glazed eyes that thought they would never be able to marvel in the true feeling. Elsewhere, love is difficult to keep. Another boy bathed in this fact after his parents split, and so did his family."

Matthew was watching him, brows knitted in confusion. 

"The boy who saw the difficulty in keeping love saw their love as a miracle. He wants to protect it. The boy who saw difficulty in finding love questioned if it was even love to begin with."

Matthew turned away. He spoke, only softly. "This isn't much of a story."

Ivan grinned. He had his attention. 

"This is only the prologue, Matvey."


End file.
